


pleaser

by burnsides



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: (crying) angus, ADHD, Anxiety, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Past Abuse, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 18:59:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10725258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnsides/pseuds/burnsides
Summary: Sometimes it felt like everybody was speaking a language that Magnus couldn't understand.





	pleaser

**Author's Note:**

> i honestly tried to write an autistic Magnus here and i tried to do a fair amount of research but if i did anything wrong please tell me and i will fix it !! (a lot of this is from my own experience honestly  
> i might delete this later ? it's kind of silly and a big ole vent fic aksjdfJHF

Magnus didn't know how anybody felt about him.

That wasn't true, he thought. He knew how people felt about him when they TOLD him, explicitly. If someone didn't tell him they were upset with him, he didn't know. If he had angered someone, unless they tried to start a fist fight or something, Magnus couldn't 'take a hint' (that's what everybody said, anyway). He loved people, loved everybody, really, but when he got into the emotions of others he stepped on thin ice. Back breakingly thin ice, and he was wearing shoes too small for his feet. 

Carey, for instance. He loved Carey, right down to her crooked fangs that stuck out of her mouth every which way, to the smoke that would wheeze out of her nose when she'd laugh hard enough. She laughed at every joke he made, no matter how stupid it was, learned Elvish so they could bad mouth each other in different languages. Their spars were tinged with stupid faces they'd make at one another to try to get them off their game. Carey was smart, Carey was good, Carey was special, and Magnus let her know that. Barreling in to give her bear hugs, asking if she wanted to take a break, if she was hungry, no, he didn't think she was a 'whiny bitch baby' or something, he just wanted to make sure she was okay. Magnus verbalized. Said goodnight after every training session, told her stories, did everything he thought was right. 

Carey was his best friend. But did she care about Magnus, too? 

He'd ask Killian this (a lot. He thought about this a lot), and she'd always howl with laughter, insisting she did. But how did she KNOW, Magnus would ask. And Killian would reply that Carey showed it, in little ways.

Angus was a mystery, too. Magnus loved kids, really, but didn't have any idea how to deal with them. They were all so little, what the hell, was Magnus ever that little? He'd always felt bigger in his head, mostly. Kids were more verbal in what they wanted, usually, but Angus wasn't usual. He was so smart, so, so smart, gap teeth and freckles shining proudly at every achievement. He never told you what was wrong. Like Magnus, but different, because people could read Angus's language, or they were trying to. Taako knew when Angus was tired, knew when he needed a break, and would (aloof, as always, swearing up and down he didn't actually care about anyone, much less the kid) help him when needed. Avi knew when something was upsetting him, so he'd do stupid shit to get him to laugh. Magnus was behind. He didn't get it.

But everybody showed things differently. Everybody showed everything differently. Just when he got used to someone else's mannerisms, or he thought he understood, he would get it wrong. So clumsy, always stumbling, never stopping, always barreling forward. Merle tugged his shirt, and that meant that Taako wanted him to back up, so he would back up, and Merle would bitch that he wanted his attention. The Director drummed her fingers, and that meant Johann wanted a beat, so Magnus would tap his feet along, but she didn't respond. His brain would skip, stutter over gears, everything out of order. Everything over packed.

The worst - the worst, the worst - were the bad signs. The ones that meant Magnus had done something WRONG. And thinking about that made him feel hot with shame, like he was still some scraggly haired kid running barefoot through the grass, dress stained with mud and earth, but he couldn't help it. He hated doing things wrong, because that meant he'd upset people, and that meant he was doing his job badly. 

(What job?) To protect people. Always. To make people happy.

Taako would have bad days, and Taako would tell him so, sometimes. But sometimes he didn't. Sometimes Taako would be slicing celery in the counter and Magnus would throw an arm around his shoulder and Taako would JERK backwards like he'd been burned, hand up, and Magnus would rear backwards. Rewind, rewind. An apology in his throat, between his teeth. He'd snap at Magnus for bothering him, don't scare me like that, I'll burn up a spell slot accidentally kicking your ass, Mango. And the gears would whir in Magnus's head, he'd say sorry, sorry, man, I'm so sorry, back up fast. So sorry.

Or he'd talk too loud, ear shatteringly loud, and he'd feel it and Merle would groan, or something. Something so small. But Magnus felt it shatter him, an earthquake. He did it again. He messed it up again. And he'd clamp his mouth shut, keeping himself to himself. Keep yourself to yourself, stay small, shut up. Something was gnawing at his brain.

Did any of them love him? (Of course they do.) How do you KNOW? (They do.) Nobody told him. Nobody has said they'd loved him in the longest time. Maybe they don't. 

(In the back of his mind, maybe, he figures they do love him, or at least like him. Logic says so. Of course they do, why are you still here, dummy? You think they'd keep you around if you weren't competent? Of course you're competent, Magnus.)

But Magnus was clingy, and Magnus was overbearing. That he knew. That's what people said to him, so it had to be true. Right? (Right.) Right. Of course. Like he could forget. Hands pulling at his ears, his hair. (Sit up straight.) You're being too loud again. (You know that girls your age need to tidy themselves up, don't you?) You messed it up again. (You fucked it up again. Look at what you did.) You broke it again. How could you be so stupid? (How could you be so stupid?) There's something wrong with you. (You've fucked up everything.)

It was hard to breathe. Merle was saying something to him, then, but all Magnus could hear was himself. Breathing and breathing and breathing. 

(They didn't love him. He was wrong, again, and again, he was wrong again. He thought he'd fixed it. He thought he'd do good this time. Away from his house, away from his parents, away from the yelling and the stupid Magnus, stupid kid, stupid stupid kid. Grew up bigger, bigger then they could ever be, even in his head. Became the person he wanted to be, but he messed it up again. This would follow him. Stupid kid. He was just a stupid kid. He carried the weight of everyone's problems, but couldn't tell if anybody liked him. You're so stupid. You're so fucking stupid.)

Magnus touched his sideburns. Again and again. Merle said something again, his eyebrows scrunched. Suck it up, Magnus. You're here for them. You're not here for you. Magnus smiles, or tries to, but it comes out wrong, like it's been through a blender. 

He gets up and stumbles back, and the lights on the base are suddenly too bright for him, and he walks out, holding his left arm, the one with all the wrong scars, the ones too uniform, and god, he's so stupid. (Of course they don't love you.) Of course not. (You're still so stupid, don't you know?)

Magnus blinks and he's outside. Things are brighter now, more clarity, but he still feels like he's drowning, and he counts to ten and breathes in like Taako taught him but all that comes through are wheezes, and there's goosebumps on the back of his neck. Biting at his neckerchief, rubbing the fabric against his face. He tried chipping his nail polish away, even though Avi had helped him paint it on not even a day ago, even though he loved the colour, dark blue against his pale skin. Nothing was working. Why wasn't anything working? 

"Sir," says Angus McDonald, and Magnus jumps out of his skin, arms wrapping around himself. The boy is staring at him, golden-brown eyes reflected against tinted glasses and dark curls. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his hands are outstretched, tentatively. "Are you okay?"

On instinct, Magnus says, "Everything's good here, Ango," except it comes out not right, and that makes Angus furrow his eyebrows more, and he feels a tear or two coming down his face, but everything's fine. He can work this out on his own. "I can work this out on my own," he reassures the boy, through his shaky sobs that are coming through his body. His smile is coming apart at the edges, but he's fine. "I promise, it's fine."

Angus folds himself into Magnus's arms, and that's what breaks the dam. He's sobbing into the poor boys toussled curls, practically crushing him to his chest, rocking him back and forth like he's a rag doll. Faintly, he hears Angus singing an elvish tune in his ear, and it makes him cry more because it's the song Magnus will sing to Taako when he's in his night terrors, when the fight can't be fought with fists, and Magnus played enough guessing games to try to figure out what helped him. It's familiar and sad, and awful, and all Magnus can do is cry because he's completely, one hundred percent positive he's fucked it up now.

After a few minutes, the sobs stop, and Magnus releases Angus. He looks down, pathetically, embarrassed, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Sorry, man," he mutters, quiet. "Usually the roles are reversed, here."

"What's wrong?" Angus asks, confident in his small age. He's so little. He has doodles on his arms from where he was drawing on it earlier, stick doodles of Merle casting a spell, Taako sticking his tongue out, Magnus flexing. 

"Ango - you're - kiddo, it's stupid shit. It's stupid Magnus shit, and you're a kid. And I don't need to be dumping my problems on you."

Angus bites his lip, and looks down. "I know, sir, but I just. You do it all the time for me, always asking me what's wrong and stuff, and I don't like seeing you so upset like this. And it's not good to keep it in, you know?"

At that, Magnus is quiet.

"And I feel like you've been keeping it in for a while. Am I correct?"

He nods. The kid can read him better than he can. 

"Do you wanna - talk about it, sir?" Angus pushes up his glasses. "I know I'm just a kid, but I've seen some pretty harsh sh - shit, if you catch my drift. And I'm here to listen, too, because you're my...friend!" He ends a little high pitched, smiling. Happy. Happy to say the words. Magnus wants to cry again. 

But instead, Magnus talks, even though maybe he shouldn't have, but once he starts he just can't stop. 

(Julia told him everything. She never shut up, and she would touch his hair and fiddle with his neck while she babbled on and on about everything. Magnus could listen to her forever, because everything she said was interesting, and everything she said was good. She knew Magnus, and Magnus knew her, for the first time, better than anyone in the whole world. She was a sap, just like Magnus, and they'd leave poetry for one another stuffed behind counters and wood chairs where they knew the other would see it. He knew she loved him because she told him, every day, in big plump faced freckled smiles and kisses on cheeks and in every line of scrawled out poetry.

And Magnus loved Merle like every tree in the forest, a constant, a curve of flowers in his fist, and he would hoist him up on his shoulders after a victory and laugh as the man thumped him on the head. Watch him smoke a pipe, because he didn't smoke, but he listened and asked questions and shut up when Merle told him to. And Magnus loved Taako like the moon, like the stars, a breath of fresh night air, and he would catch him in the hallway and tip his hat back and listen to him hiss gossip about the Bureau members, mutter a spell under his breath. He loved them, and Angus, he loved Angus so much, like his own kid, the best and smartest detective in the world, give him advice and new notebooks when he wanted them. Knew his favorite ice cream, let him sleep on his shoulders when shit got too tiring for such a little kid. And he told them, he tried so hard to, but Magnus had no idea how anybody else felt about him. Like the whole world was giving him mixed symbols. If they didn't say they liked him, of course, of course they hated him. Everybody was speaking their own languages, and Magnus was behind, so he didn't tell anyone anything anymore. Kept his love folded up behind counters and jars in cabinets. Protected. Protecting everybody.)

Angus held onto his arm when he listened. And after a minute, he said, quiet. "They love you, Magnus. They really do."

"But how do I know that?"

And Angus told them their language.

He was so smart, such a good detective. Didn't take a sleuth to know Carey loved Magnus, he said. She boasted about all his new moves he was trying out, make him friendship bracelets with old rope that she'd always lose before the next sparring. Practiced her carving everyday. Practiced her Elvish in bad accents. Merle thought the world of him, but he'd never, never say it. He said it in whispered healing spells when Magnus protested them, gruff under his beard, in the blessings he'd put over their dinners and over their beds and over Taako and Magnus when they weren't looking. The way he never left. And Taako loved him, too, and maybe he'd never say it, because Taako kept his feelings on lockdown under facades and terse smiles. But Taako memorized his lullabies, was gentle with him, played with his hair. Clung to his shirt. Wrapped his arm around his in their walks around the moon base.

Magnus tried to wrap his head around it, tried to process it all. Some of it processed still into jumble in his head, different experiences, different things, but Angus reassured him, patting his knee like an adult. Still soft around the edges.

"It's okay if you don't see it all the time," Angus said, quiet. "It's okay if it gets confusing. It's confusing for me, too, but I'm still figuring it out. It's okay if you're figuring it out, too."

"It is?" Magnus asked, honestly.

"It is," the boy replied.

It's okay, Magnus told himself. 

And Magnus took that love and held it in his heart, held it in his arms, swinging Angus around while he yelped in surprise. Held it close to himself. Held it there where he could see it, read the language, try his best to understand. With it came patience, but they loved him. They all did. 

They would wait for him.

**Author's Note:**

> my twitter is @sunshineboiii if you wanna talk !!! =D  
> now with absolutely LOVELY ART !!!!! http://honeybeeofficial.tumblr.com/post/160318937375/this-is-self-indulgent-but-i-read-a-highly


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